And some hearts are ghosts settling down in dark waters

Often when I'm riding in a car, especially on a long trip, I start feeling like I just want to keep riding and don't want to arrive anywhere. I must like feeling like I'm in limbo or something. Or maybe I start feeling like the car is more home than any other place, so I just want to stay there. Who knows. It's funny that suddenly I think of that, as I was going to write about my ambitions and possible goals in life.

But really, when I think of what I want to do, I feel like I have hardly any specific ambitions. I can't commit to anything in particular. I've been praying for guidance and for a path to be revealed in some way, hinted at. However, I know that I have to be open and willing to listen, which I am not very good at doing. I am very set in my ways and my own schedule. Sometimes I think about all the paths I could have taken--what if I had stopped to say hello to those people, what if I hadn't stayed in the library that extra hour, what if I had gone to that show--did I miss something important? But I do everything so according to my own plans that there is little room for outside interference. I don't let things happen to me.

But I've got to let go of some of that control because I'm sure there are things out there that are beyond my plans, beyond my imagination.

There is one thing I know I want in my future: a big craft room, where I don't have to put away any of my stuff--a table for Ukrainian eggs, a sewing corner, clay, wax, paper for collages and origami, stained glass if I can learn to make it. Oh, and I also want to go into outer space. That's pretty ambitious, I suppose.

I know I've written about stuff like this before--last time it was around my birthday, as I recall. And now it's...well, technically the day after my half-birthday. Which reminds me, I have library books to return.